


In the Bleak Midwinter

by Patcho418



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Original Character(s), Recruitment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 18:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17513606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patcho418/pseuds/Patcho418
Summary: With Recall having been in effect for 4 months, Lena discovers one of her old friends' whereabouts and hopes to be able to recruit him back into the organization.





	In the Bleak Midwinter

_This is it, innit?_ Tracer thought to herself as she approached the cabin. It was a quaint little home made of horizontal logs and with a golden glow pushing through the square windows. The place might’ve reminded her of a fairy tale cottage with a beautiful and wise wizard inhabiting it, were it not for the biting winds and frigid snow eating away at her warmth.

She pulled her parka hood over her head, letting her cuffs slip further down her arms; most of her older coats couldn’t fit over her chronal accelerator anymore and so she’d had to borrow one of Mei’s, which completely enveloped her spindly arms.

Tracer quickly shuffled up the wooden steps onto the porch and knocked on the wooden door which creaked under her gloved fist. This was surely no place for anyone, especially an ex-Overwatch agent, to be spending the past couple of years. Part of her didn’t really want to believe that Jesse and Gabriel’s old teammate resided here in the middle of a blizzard, but knowing him, it was the perfect spot to stay hidden—which was most definitely his specialty.

She waited for the door to open, but there was nothing. Impatient and frigid, she thumped the door again a few times and waited. This time, she noticed a small mechanical whirring in response to her knocks. She turned her head to see a near-microscopic camera propped between to logs right beside the door.

_Interesting…_ she thought to herself as she leaned towards it, observing the device through her tinted goggles.

Suddenly, the door began to slide away. Tracer looked over to see an orange wash of light on the porch and a darkened figure leaning out the side of the door. She stood straight to greet the figure, her mouth split into an excited smile and her hands outstretched, shaking from the cold.

“It’s so good to see you again, Matthew!” she called.

The figure emerged from the doorway: he wore only a flannel shirt with a hoodie underneath, a pair of woollen pajama pants, and a pair of deerskin mitts; even his feet only had a pair of worn wool socks to protect him from the snow underneath him. His bearded jaw stretched slightly as he smiled brilliantly, and though there were thick bags under his eyes, they beamed with friendliness and cordiality.

“I could say the same for you, Lena!” he smiled and dove into the taller woman’s arms, hugging her tightly. Tracer giggled heartily as she wrapped her arms around his back, partially way too excited to see her friend again and partially thankful that he was somehow way warmer than she was.

“We’ve missed ya, luv!” she told Matthew as she pulled out of the hug. “Whatcha been up to then?”

Matthew chuckled, placing his hand behind his head. “It’s a long story. Been doing some run-of-the-mill sabotage and infiltration while trying to both remain relevant and inconspicuous.”

Tracer giggled again, this time more lightly. “You’re doin’ a bang-up job then!”

“I’m guessing my hiding skills aren’t what helped you find me then?” he joked. Then, his face went somewhat solemn. “Why are you here?”

Tracer stopped for a moment, but her silence was most noticeably emphasised by the gusting winds against their faces. She couldn’t bear to tell him that his life was in danger, and that many of their friends had been assassinated by the mysterious and sinister Talon Company under the leadership of one of their previous associates. The man who’d for so long evaded being tracked by their many enemies now in danger of being compromised…

She inhaled deeply. “It’s a long story.”

The man nodded. “Well, I mean, I guess it must be told. Come inside, I’ll make you some coffee. Or tea, if that’s still your thing.”

Matthew led her inside into the warm glow of his house lights. The comfy interior was decorated with clashing aesthetics; beside different mounted hunting trophies and framed artwork were wires and computer monitors with information incomprehensible at first glance. Video feeds danced across several screens a few times, and Matthew continuously turned his head over to them, analyzing them for small moments before turning away. Most notable of his decorations was an old hunting rifle, a handheld pistol not unlike hers underneath it, and a wrist pad, all mounted on a white and orange plaque; underneath was a label which said: “Buckshot, Blackwatch”.

“Fancy setup here,” Tracer noted, eyeing the weapons that radiated a nostalgic energy.

“Thanks!” he said from what she guessed was his kitchen. “Now, was that a tea or a coffee?”

“Just tea, thank you!” she called back as she sat down in one of his armchairs, pulling her hood down. To her right, the fireplace was lit with a flame. Its heat consumed her and tingled her reddened, chilled skin, causing her to tense up before stretching her body out and relaxing.

“So what was it you wanted to tell me again? Something about a long story?” Matthew called out again. “I sure hope it’s not as long as the last one.”

Of course, he was referring to the incident with Morrison and Reyes. In his youth, Matthew had joined Reyes as one of Blackwatch’s first members, but as the years drew on he’d found himself disagreeing with its internal politics and Reyes’ hunger for power. He was the first to voice his opinion, and as a result Reyes had sent him off on a covert op in his home country of Canada. Matthew had remained covert until receiving a message from Tracer saying that Overwatch had been shut down four months ago and that Morrison and Reyes were presumed dead.

Of course, Tracer knew that the story would be similar. Morrison and Reyes were back, fighting on opposite sides this time, and that had been going on for four months now, all while Matthew had been in hiding in British Columbia, doing his own covert operations to keep himself occupied.

“Something like that…Recall just went. They’re wanting us back in the action.”

The infiltrator emerged with two steaming mugs in his hands, smiling warmly but with betrayed eyes. “Good old Gabe trying to destroy Jack again? Figures. I didn’t take death as something to stop either of them.” He handed her one of the mugs decorated with copious maple leafs, and she nodded in gratitude, wrapping her thin fingers around the mug and inhaling the steam.

“And you’re here to recruit me to help Jack?”

“That’s the plan, yeah. Come on, we could get the old team back together, luv!”

Matthew chuckled. “Old team, eh? That wouldn’t happen to include Amazon, would it? Or Lark for that matter. Last I heard, Lark went MIA and Amazon’s enjoying a cushy life training security officers for Helix.”

Tracer arched her brow. “What’s the gotta do with anything then?”

“I’m saying I can’t exactly drop everything I’ve got going on for something I just heard about—even if it started four months ago.” He loudly slurped his drink, his face relaxing slightly. “I mean, not to be rude or anything, but it’s a bit last-minute. You sure you really need me right now?”

“Sure we need you! There’s no one better at infiltration than you, and we could really use your computer skills to counter some of Talon’s experts. You’re essential!” Tracer was flushed at this point, but she had to let him know that he was one of the few people who could help them stop Overwatch agents from being found and murdered…which was important if he wanted to live.

“Besides,” she added, “they’re tracking down and killing Overwatch agents. Jack thinks having you will really help us out, but I think that having you onboard will keep you safe. I don’t want any more of my friends dying off.”

Matthew sighed, blowing the steam away from his mug before it fell back. At first, Tracer thought perhaps he would smile and accept the invitation, but she knew that he was far more complex than that. She knew he’d think it through, and that he may even consider rejecting her completely and continuing his work. She feared that that might be his choice. She didn’t want him dead. She didn’t want him dead. She did not want…

“On one condition,” he said, setting his mug down beside him on the floor and standing.

She traced him as he sauntered over to one of the screens, flashing information about a man in a suit. The image of the main was somewhat grainy, but showed him to be middle-aged and likely of Japanese descent, with black hair combed back and a wicked grin upon his face.

“Noriko Tsukuda. He’s affiliated with the Shimada clan, eh? I’ve been trying to get in with him, and just got an invitation to one of his fancy-schmancy dinner parties next weekend.” He continued to eye the computer screen, but Tracer knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You want me to be your dinner date, then?” she quipped.

He chuckled, to her immediate surprise. “No, not quite. I want you to be my infiltrator. Do that, and I’ll see if I can manage to squeeze you and the others back into my cushy life.”


End file.
